Loco Parentis
by caffinebunny
Summary: Further washouts from the tryouts for Wraith Squadron. Or, how the triplets weren't sure they wanted to be there but General Kracken was very emphatic that they couldn't up and leave, they had to wash out instead.


Title: Loco Parentis

Author: medjai_trowa

Fandom: Star Wars/Leverage/Angel/RPF (Triplets)

Rating: Teen (for naughty military boys)

Summary: Further washouts from the tryouts for Wraith Squadron. Or, how the triplets weren't sure they wanted to be there but General Kracken was very emphatic that they couldn't up and leave, they had to wash out instead.

Notes: Idea well and truly kyped from Police Academy. Sorry Mahoney and co.

"C'mon Antilles!" Wes's cellmate protested loudly as Wedge was about to tell the custody officer that he had no clue who the man was.

He and the custody officer exchanged a look before Wedge decided he should probably be a good CO-in-loco-parentis and bail all the miscreants who had led to his dark o'clock wake up call. He could have them all scrubbing latrines for the next few years, he supposed.

"Yeah," he agreed resignedly, "The three that look alike are mine too."

Smirking like he knew exactly how much trouble all five were in, the custody officer nodded curtly. "As you say, sir," he agreed amiably. "If you'll sign just here."

He watched all five as they shuffled sheepishly out of the cells – all except Spencer, who just looked ready to break some more heads – and shook his head. There were traces of neon marker paint on all five and, explaining to some extent the expression on the man's face, traces of soot and the faint smell of burning about Spencer. He didn't rate Kane and McDonald's chances highly if he was left alone with the two.

Still, he at least knew better than to ask what Wes and Hobbie had been up to – at least until the security forces report crossed his desk the following morning so that he was in possession of all the facts in advance of the conversation.

Shaking his head at the motley crew he turned and walked away, secure in the knowledge that they would dare do nothing but follow him. And three, two, one. "Ah!" he snapped, certain that Wes had his mouth open to protest. "I do not wish to hear anything from any of you until I am in my office tomorrow morning."

Smirking to himself as he turned the corner, he heard Wes's hissed, "How does he always _do_ that?" and Spencer's growled, "Shut up!" as they shambled almost as one to follow him. Hobbie, McDonald and Kane were wisely, blissfully, silent.

#####

Hobbie dealt with and the story appropriately hidden from Rogue squadron, just carefully enough that it should be all the way round the squadron before his return, Wedge settled in to deal with the other four problems.

He was thankful he had dealt with all three of the brothers before and not stuck playing the guessing games that had apparently landed the trio in the pool Wraith squadron was being pulled from. Narrowing his eyes, he gestured at Wes. "Janson, step out," he told him and, sagging slightly the man went.

Once the door had slid shut behind him, Wedge leaned forward to study the trio for a long moment, before jabbing a finger at the middle sibling. "You. Kane. Go. What happened?"

Kane startled. "Me? Man, why do you guys always pick on me?"

Wedge almost spoke, but was cut off by snorts from the older and younger siblings. "Because," Spencer explained in a patient growl, "You're the one who has all the good ideas. Tell the man."

There was a standoff as the siblings stared at each other.

"You know what?" Wedge decided, breaking the silence. "I know what happened. I don't want to know who you five got hold of that much industrial grade launchpad marker paint. I also don't want to know how you got it onto this station and into the hangars without being caught but if I did know, hypothetically Lindsey, I would let Luke know you're in need of looking after. If you catch my meaning.

"Now," he continued, "I know what your deal with Kracken is, because I know he thinks that you can be molded into useful fighter pilots. I think the rest of us, who were with the rebellion around the time you and Carlson showed up, would be excessively grateful if you would accept this transfer back to the commando unit you started with. Preferably back under Carlson or Ford's command."

He slid a data pad across the desk.

"Now, make sure you look suitably chastened as you leave. I'm going to have some _fun_ with Janson."


End file.
